Love Thy Neighbor-Excerpt

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An Excerpt from LOVE
THY NEIGHBOR

Copyright (c) AMY
RUTTAN 2008

All Rights
Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Damn, she looks just as good as ever, David thought as he pulled into the driveway of his
parents’ home in the small suburb of Deerpark, Illinois. He hadn’t been home in
two years. Not since she and her husband moved in next to his parents.
Unfortunately, he had already been out of the house and on his own by then—but
he had been there the day she had moved in. Ms. Robins, the woman he had been
fantasizing about for two years. A woman fifteen years older.

He turned off the ignition and braced his hands
against the wheel, letting out a deep breath as he watched her water her lawn
with the hose. She was wearing a light cotton sundress. The spray from the hose
was leaving a fine mist of water on her golden tan, firm calves. Her white
sundress was almost transparent and he could see the line of her panties
through it. She wore a big straw hat and her chestnut curls with streaks of
gray were tied back in a ponytail.

He felt his cock respond—just like it had when Mr. and
Ms. Robins had moved in two years ago. He had just graduated from Harvard Law and
was preparing to start as a junior in a law firm. His heart beat wildly against
his chest as he thought back to that day. He had been sitting on his parents’
front stoop, waiting for his friends, when the moving truck followed by a red
BMW had pulled up. Mr. Robins was a big man, an ex-football player who had
never went pro. Instead he became a big-shot investor and a man who completely
ignored his gorgeous wife.

His breath had been taken away when Ms. Robins got out
of the car. She wore a well-tailored suit, her chestnut hair in a bun, she
looked somber and severe—but deep down, something inside David stirred. He
remembered going instantly hard when he had first seen her. He had stopped
bouncing his basketball and tried not to stare open-mouthed as she had walked
slowly up the drive behind her husband. She had slid her

sunglasses down her
nose and fixed him with her emerald-green gaze, a look that he would have sworn
was full of want, desire, sexual heat. As she had looked him up and down he
almost came in his pants. She had laughed under her breath and slid the
sunglasses back up her nose with a perfectly manicured nail and then walked
into her house.

He had turned red every time he saw
her that summer. Like he was some zit-faced teenager instead of the
twenty-three-year-old man who had just graduated at the top of his class, the
youngest to get accepted into Harvard Law and finish at an accelerated course.

She had made him feel so inadequate.
He had girls his age falling at his feet and never once had he felt
intimidated, out of control of his passion—but when he had sex with his
girlfriend it wasn’t her face he had seen. It had been Beverly Robins, Ms.
Robins.

Two years of torment, two years her
face had haunted him and he had never plucked up the courage to approach her.
Why would he? She was married to a very successful, influential man whereas he
was fifteen years her junior. He hadn’t had enough time to make it big—he had
nothing to offer her. He had left to go to a law firm in Boston and never
looked back.

Well, he had tried not to look back
as he scrambled to become the youngest partner at his firm. His mother and
father begged him to return home for a visit but he couldn’t bear the thought
of seeing her again. Wanting her.

Beverly Robins distracted him and he
didn’t need that kind of distraction in the corporate dog-eat-dog world. He was
a veritable tiger in the courtroom. Defense attorneys quaked when David Craig
was on the case. Women, he had plenty, nameless women who slaked his needs when
he was horny. But try as he might, he couldn’t get Ms. Robins’ face out of his
mind.

He had to lay the demon to rest. He
had to go home for his younger sister’s wedding. He couldn’t avoid it any
longer.

He
had vowed to be strong when he showed up in Deerpark on his parents’ tree-lined
street. He was David Craig, the killer, yet now the killer was sitting in his
black Mercedes-Benz feeling like an awkward, horny teenager instead of a very
successful twenty-five-year-old attorney.

“David, what are you doing out
there?” his mother called from the doorway.

“Shit,” he cursed, banging his head
against the steering wheel. He peered through the crook of his arm to see that
Ms. Robins had stopped her watering. She was staring at him through the tinted
windows of his car, giving him that same intense, heated, sexual stare she had
given him two years ago.

There was a tap at the window, his
mother’s face pressed against the glass with her hand cupped around her eyes,
trying to see through the tint.

“Hello David, are you in there?”

Jesus fucking Christ, Mother. He grabbed his cell phone, flipped it
open and popped open the door. Feigning that he was on a really important call.

“Yep, yep, got it.” He snapped the
phone shut with such purpose.

“Sorry, honey, I didn’t know you were
on a call,” his mother said.

He bent down and kissed his mother on
the cheek. “It’s all right, Mom. Just work.”

As he hugged his mother he could see
Ms. Robins staring at him and then she walked toward the white picket fence
that separated the Robins’ yard from the Craig yard.

“Why, Louise, I believe it’s been a
long time since I’ve seen David here. How have you been, David?” Ms. Robins
asked huskily. Her gaze eating him up. The effect worked fast on David, he
pushed his mother away a little too quickly so she wouldn’t feel what Ms.
Robins’ presence was doing to him.

“I’m fine, Ms. Robins, how are you
and Mr. Robins doing?”

“David,” his mother hissed out the
side of her mouth.

“No, it’s all right, Louise,” Ms. Robins said,
waving her hand at his mother in dismissal. “It’s no secret.”

“What?” he asked, sounding confused.

“Mr.
Robins left me almost two years ago, not long after we moved in.”